Créer mon blog M'identifier

The quiet earth tides

Le 21 décembre 2017, 05:22 dans Humeurs 0

In December, the early winter season, go on the road, listening to the wind will now slowly bring news. Looking at the endless stream of cars and passing pedestrians, I can not help but recall that it had been a year in this busy city. And the day it left, it was a little closer. The rest of the time, only Qingqian, heart.

Perhaps, on the city's story, such as the wind or no trace of silence, and perhaps, as in the autumn leaves fall so deep in heart. In the end, these are the colors of one person's years, or sunk or light, and they know it well. I always felt that I was lucky enough. Yes, for a lot of people, to be able to live in peace, freedom to come and go is a great happiness.

Take the pace of freedom, walk up and stop, look at writing, sometimes feel as slow as a slow rhythm of pure music, and fortunately, there is a dream can be arboreal. A road way, silently I work heart, flower planting memories, until the old days, then return all wine. Until then, perhaps, a person will be better, with nature, is going on.

In fact, in some cases, listening to the stories of others can always be an amazing time for silence. Think of the promise I have promised, in the long river, in the end is still live up to. Perhaps, the very beautiful promise is really because it is too young. A good company and wait, and finally, they didn't come, but you chose to leave first. Now, keep a quiet heart.

She chose to see her last weekend. She still had a very happy life, and we were the same as two years ago, walking side by side along the road with words. To be used to the rest of the world, always thanks to the warmth of the meeting. Well, this journey of life, we are constantly in the past, and have always met the beauty.

Red flowers

Le 15 novembre 2017, 03:26 dans Humeurs 0

If we can meet again, do you still remember someone who keep that promise, will you remember past lost dreams, will remember the original heart, still remember one person is still in Sijun every morning and evening. Looking forward to this life, I am a childe, you for girls, corner meet, shoulders touch lightly, no longer separated. We believe in poetry, to do about words, to the media, even if do Zim oath, but also for you, but as long as you know much thought, and I never say a word, a warm spring! I hid in the wind, the next season to miss, my warm feeling, disperse your endless loneliness and sorrow sorrow, at the moment, you're wandering where? Ever feel a wisp of yearning for you, I think woven into the red line, throwing a wisp, waiting for you to take, I ask you what year master of theology hong kong?

The figure has been hovering over the trees, now have a look at you as I struggled to blooming tree full of flowers? Past life, I also only is a peach tree, flower flowers and open for you, just waiting for you to pick. I love this world where precipitation events, but no one can understand my world, in fact, has long been a story into, and the story has slowly disappeared in my pen, but still with me in the pages of scripture wine tasting.

Last autumn, watching the past years will be stranded, tired mind, alone to writing sad, for you again full of ten peach. But I feel very depressed at the prospect, can not remember this is the scene of several world reincarnation, with Kate's face, with persistent ambition, just to feel the warmth of your fingers, which again bitterness, who can tell Serviced apartment Central ?

Once again, the day is not bright

Le 29 octobre 2017, 09:06 dans Humeurs 0

In real life, some people work in the office; some people in the machine rumbling workshop; some people work in the three-foot platform; there may be some people, the street is their work "battlefield" They are beautiful youth and hard sweat dedicated to the city, which won the city "beautician" title! They are my most admired people WSET awards!

I know the cleanser aunt, is the cleaning team in the most common one bit. She is less than fifty years old this year, not tall, black and thin, look very fine, perhaps because of the reasons for the sun and the sun, the ruthless years of her black hair into a plume of silver hair, Much older than the actual age Direct Subsidy School.

She was wearing the orange overalls throughout the year, every day in the morning days did not shine, people still dreaming, she was busy in the street, "rushing rushing" sweeping voice, like a soft morning song , In the night in the crisp and sweet, beautiful and beautiful, very wonderful. Aunt is responsible for the streets on both sides, there are many hotel night market, every day there are a lot of food waste, she broom a broom sweepers, a broom close to a broom, fear of falling a piece of space a piece of paper, that position is really beautiful, Just like to give their daughter comb hair. Sweat soaked in her clothes, the hands of the bright red blood bubble, the day put out, like a magician, she is responsible for the streets become clean, spotless master of economics hong kong.

Once again, the day is not bright, I feel dry mouth intolerable, they want to go downstairs to find water to drink, gently lifted the curtains, a touch of moonlight sprinkled on my bed, I saw a shadow on the street shaking, Thought it was a thief! A closer look, it is not a clean aunt? Orange vest a flash, she waved the broom, "shabu shabu" sweep, that figure bent, rhythmic, similar, like a dance-like dance.

Remember a winter evening, I went out to buy things, the north wind raging roar, like a frightened Mustang, rushed around. At this time the ground up and down a thin layer of snow, although my body was covered tightly, but the biting cold wind like a sharp knife, or could not live in my face. The pedestrians on the road gradually scarce, my feet "eat" step on the white snow, and my heart to think, so slippery road, do not fall! I walked carefully, and when I went to a corner and saw the aunt of the cleaners, she was sweeping the streets down her head. She was wearing that work clothes, wearing a head to cover the ears of the hat, cheeks frozen black and red, like a hand touch, it will be like a burst.

Aunt rickets with the waist, carefully swept the snow, I went over and said: "aunt, so cold days, so late, will not come to check, you should get off work, and so tomorrow morning to sweep it?" Aunt But it is my work, say it is going to the next night shift, and if the road is not sweeping, the people who work to ride a car "I stood for a while, to see the aunt's mouth with a burst of hot air, bean curd sweat from her black and thin cheeks rolled down ... ...

I bought things, go back in the town has just been swept on the road, and my heart always happy not up, I thought, in this cold winter, people are closed at home no fire, for fear of cold, and clean aunt These people, in order to the beauty of the city, the public's well-being, but in the outside wind and snow, fear of cold, overtime, quiet dedication, no regrets, how lovely they are ah!

Since then, I have more respect for the cleaners, if someone asked me, who is the most lovely people today, I will not hesitate to tell you loudly: clean workers are well deserved! Comments: small author make good use of metaphor, just right, for the article considerably.

Voir la suite ≫